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I had a dream she asked me to write, write down all the words I had ever said to her, she told me she loved despite anything else she had ever said to me, she had never asked anything from me; I happily obliged over excited. I dreamt that despite what she said she would give me my happy ever after, not the fairy tale version, she knew I loved them but that was never what I wanted. I dreamt that I would write it all down, despite the amount of time it would take. In my dream she sat beside me, almost touching; as I watched her eyes skim over the pages replaying every moment. I watched all the different emotions play across her face, the smiles, the bowed eyebrows in confusion, I watched the anger play across her face, a smile, every tear that fell down my face matched hers, a smile. I dreamt that her smiles were my second favorite moments as I watched every emotion. I hated watching tears run down her face knowing I had put them there, she would scoot a little closer to me and grab my hand; we had never been this close before, my thumb would gently stroke across the back of her hand, soft and tired, a smile would start to form, in the moments I had made her cry were always followed by a smile, I’ve always had that ability, her smile too addictive to allow the frown to make home on her face. I dreamt that those were my favorite moments, despite how bad the pain was I could always make a smile grace her. I dreamt that she looked at me with a half smile, her hand still locked in mine she whispered to me “this is not enough.” Unsure of what she could possibly mean, those were all the words I had said to her I was sure of it, I dreamt that the look in her eyes was not one of disappointment because I had forgotten something I had said, there was a sadness there for words I had never spoke to her, only she did not know herself where this sadness was coming from. Knowing I had to keep the smile on her face, I made the missing words into a scavenger hunt, I hid verses all over the house of words that were meant to spoken now. I watched as she playfully searched the house, she found the first verse hidden in the coffee pot, I watched the confusion play through her eyes, she couldn’t remember me ever saying that to her, her eyebrows shot up, a crooked grin lit her face as she realized what she was looking for; with a new excitement for this game she kept up the search. She found the second verse buried in the freezer, hidden under the Ice Cream no one really ate, the third verse was carefully placed in one of her notebooks, that verse was meant to be wrote into one of her stories; it belonged there. I dreamt that she spent the next hour searching for the final verse, I watched and waited as she grew tired and impatient and on the verge of giving up. She looked at me angry and desperate to read the final verse, I dreamt that I walked over to her a smile across my own face, I grabbed both her hands despite her anger and urge to pull away from me, I felt her body loosen as I pulled her close to me “It’s here” I said as I spoke words that could only be true “I love you” her smile. I dreamt that.. well it’s my dream, somethings are meant for only me.

I came from a family with no love to spare
Slow to realize no one really cared
Always searching for a way to be loved
All I ever found were drugs
My hands always trembled, body coated in sweat
It was my own life I came to regret
Alone in my room leaving memories behind
I would do anything to erase the images in my mind
They took me to a world that was mine alone
A place where I could finally hold my own
In this world I created in my head
I felt alive, no longer hanging by a thread
Being high I knew I wasn’t a coward
No, I made myself believe I had power
Everything was new drugs gave me a clean slate
But pieces of my sanity they would take
Living that way was not as perfect as I believed
The life I was living was ill conceived
Self-harm and suicidal plans fueled by withdrawal
After everything I survived there is no more room to fall
Ending my life was one wrong I could right
My mind is fucked and I’m too tired to fight

I am drawing a complete blank, not a damn thing coming to mind all though i have too many thoughts in my head, not a single one of them goes together, if they do then I just cannot keep up, I cannot place them in the proper order. Yes I have picked up the notebook and my favorite pen, scribbled and doodled all over it. I have torn out exactly 5 pages and Xed through 10; I have taken some time to stop and read what others have wrote, been through a list of writing prompts (which turned out comical to me, I shall post that later) and here I am, writing this garbage again. Blah blah blah am I really going through this stage again? So soon!

UGH!

The time was 9:32 PM, outside was dark, the weather calm and all the creatures of the night were settled in their favorite spots in the grass, trees and bushes. I can’t really tell if they were all talking to each other, talking over each other, throwing a rad party of which that we will never witness or maybe these little creatures were just screaming, screaming their revenge for the amount of noise and the many times us humans disturb them during the day. OH! One more theory; they may just be doing what I do when I am outside at night time, cussing out and yelling at the worst offenders; the mosquitoes.

The scene inside the house is a completely different story, there is but one light on, on the bottom floor of the house, probably a couple upstairs as well but no need to picture that I will not be writing about that part of the house. We enter through the front door and please do not let those mosquitoes in! The first thing we will notice is the smell of coffee, always perfect this time of night. It is a slightly tense atmosphere, Captain is on the computer working for a few extra bucks in her tie-dyed shirt and her sleeping shorts; determined to get as much done as possible to make up for the hours she is losing at work. Not much to be said other than that, if you know her you know that posture… Stay clear she is anxious, stressed and in a hurry to get through those, we haven’t had a decent conversation in days but it’s ok because I know she works. Next I was going to describe the sound of my dog pacing through the house, obsessively cleaning herself, and scratching wherever she can reach BUT as I looked over at her she stopped, mid scratch right next to the desk Captain is sitting at and gave me the weirdest look, OH SHIT.. She knows I am about to talk about her so moving on.

The couch; my home, my bed, my hangout and my writing space when the computer is occupied. In this dimly lit room we hear the clicking of paws, the clicking of the computer mouse, the screaming bugs and a random thump, oh shit what have the cats done now? Pan over to me wearing an old pair of basketball shorts and a white tank top, pale legs and half tanned arms. Sitting on the flowery old but reliable couch, (don’t need anything fancy with as many animals as we have new is bad.. 7 cats, 2 dogs and 2 turtles) This is where I am right now with crumbled up paper, empty pen, tablet, ashtray and Pina Colada flavored Sobe surrounding me. With my trusty notebook in my lap and my 2nd favorite pen in my hand. Unfortunately this is where this story ends, I am here I have been writing this real small hoping something wonderful will strike but time as caught up with me and this is still all I have. Time 9:59 PM maybe I should call it a night?